Metal Gear Solid: Pacific Turmoil
by SniperOcelot88
Summary: After the hostile take-over of a top secret military installation by an unknown, highly trained military organization, Philanthropy is called into action by the United States government. Once again, Solid Snake faces horrific odds as he tips the scales i
1. Default Chapter

This story is fictional. Any and all similarities to characters groups or other entities in real life are coincidental

Chapter One

They were cruising steadily at around 20,000 feet. The doors of their DC-3 airplane were open and they were preparing to jump. The 11 other men in the aircraft were doing the same instinctive thing as he was. He began checking over his equipment one last time before the jump. He was doing this mainly to make sure every latch, buckle and zipper was secured and made sure his jump mask was fastened and the air canister was also secured and also to be certain his gear was as well. With his gear checked he began thinking of the mission, and what he was expected to do.

They would jump at 20,000 feet and perform a HALO jump, or a High Altitude Low Opening jump. They would free-fall from 20,000 feet and freefall to about 2,500 feet and then deploy their parachutes and hit the ground shortly there after. After jumping they would kill the engines and let the planes glide past the island which they were targeting and eventually splash down 30 miles from nowhere in the middle of the pacific ocean. That's where the target was. Precisely 30 miles from nowhere in the middle of the pacific ocean. It was a secret military installation that housed a weapon of great import to their employer. Due to it's obscure location they anticipated, and had confirmed, that the security on the island was present but rather lax. However, the base had constant contact with the nearest Air Force base and aircraft carrier in the area at all times. They hoped to sever communication before word could be gotten out that they were there. Even if the government was contacted it would be quite a while before they would get there and a soldier stationed at the base could surely be convinced to call them off.

The 'sergeant' on the plane announced that there was precisely 60 seconds until the jump. He looked at his watch which had been synchronized with everybody else's on the plane prior to take off. He began counting down. He looked out and saw three more DC-3s to the left of his aircraft and knew three more were on the other side. He also knew that several large boats carrying supplies, more men and heavier weaponry were coming in and would arrive several hours later. 30 seconds. He made sure his weapons were safed and quickly checked everything over again 10 seconds. He saw the men ahead of him begin to jump. He moved forward. The man in front of him jumped and he made a quick step forward and hopped out of the aircraft. His natural center of gravity – and training – forced him to spread his arms and legs to balance himself and his head was pointed down which, through his jump mask, he could see the island – even from 20,000 feet – and he saw that he was moving quickly towards it. He looked at his altimeter on his wrist: 18,000 feet. 15,500 feet to go. He neglected to look at his altimeter for a while as he was accustomed to the amount of time it would take to get from 20,000 feet to 2,500 as he had done this many times before. Several minutes later he looked at his altimeter: 3,000 feet. "Almost there" he thought. He found his rip cord flailing in the intense wind created by his free-fall. Rip cord in one hand, eyes fixed on his altimeter he waited. "2,800...2,700...2,600...2,650" he said quietly to himself "NOW!" At that he pulled his rip cord. The expected rush off nylon spilling out of his pack-back and crush pulling up as the parachute deployed did not come.

"Shit, just what I need" he said to himself with a combination of disgust and a hint of fear "I thought these were checked over" After his momentary panic he found his reserve chute cord. "This sure as hell better work" He yanked the second cord and the nylon parachute billowed out of it's pack and filled with air.

"Thank God" He thought rather happily to himself. He then looked at his altimeter: 2,000 feet.

"Hmm...not bad, only 500 feet behind" he thought to himself. "Few minutes and I'll be on the ground. He was slightly ahead of his comrades due to his shortly extended free-fall. He looked up to see just how far but only saw his rectangular shaped black parachute. "So much for being last" he said to himself.

Several minutes later he was within 200 feet of the ground. He had steered himself towards an opening in the trees and knew he would have to get out of the way quickly as several other soldiers would be landing there as well. He hit the ground with a thud and began running forward with the momentum of the parachute but slowed down began rolling his parachute around his arms and moving towards the trees. He looked back from the trees and saw his comrades doing the same thing and coming over to join him. He took off his mask, goggles, air tank and vest that housed the breathing apparatus. He dropped it on the ground not needing them anymore. He then took up his H&K MP5SD6. Unsafed it and cocked it loading a 9mm cartridge into the chamber. He then took his sidearm, an H&K USP Tactical from it's thigh holster. He unsafed it, and pulled the slide back with an easy, smooth chick-chick of the action setting itself and a .45 ACP round entering the chamber. He looked over his other equipment to make sure it survived the fall: hand grenades, flash bangs, Ka-bar knife, backpack, canister. Everything was there. He took out his boonie hat from behind his ammunition vest, unfurled it and placed it neatly on his head. He switched on his radio and made sure the earpiece was in his ear and connected to the radio. With all his gear checked and his comrades on the ground they began moving. He found his 11 fellows from the plane, as this was his squad, and began moving towards the base.

After several minutes of stealthily moving through the woods they came upon the base. It had a 12 foot wall with guard posts at the four corners. It was bigger than he had pictured it, though he knew the schematics of it by heart – as did every other man on the island. He knew what would be happening. There were a total of six planes, with one squad of 12 men in each. Four squads were going to assault the guard posts. The other two would stand by and wait for the guards to be eliminated. Then they would enter the base, sever the communications and dispose of any guards they found. There were mainly scientists and not many guards, but those that were there mustn't be alive to interfere. His squad was to take out the guard house on the northeast side of the complex. The four squads skirted the base while staying in the woods and radioed to let everyone know they had reached their assigned locations. Each squad had one man with a PSG-1 caliber 7.62 x 51mm sniper rifle in addition to the 9mm H&K MP5SD6. This was more than powerful enough to impale the guards behind the glass of the guard posts. The sniper carefully took aim, placing their crosshairs directly over their victim's head. At the same exact moment all four snipers pulled the triggers of their gun making one of the two guards fall to the ground. An instant later the other guard had joined him on the cold steel floor. The rifle was potent yet retained the excessive noise most rifles bear. After the four snipers confirmed their kills the squads moved in. By employing grapples that they carried with them they were able to get up and over the wall with ease. While the snipers had been shooting the two other squads moved towards the front gate and upon hearing the rifle blasts the two remaining squads moved in as well. At the entrance there were two guard stations behind the wall with a chain link fence as high as the main wall with an extra foot of barbed-wire on top of it. It also happened to be electrified fencing. With one squad on each side of the fence, two men on each side took aim at the two guards present in the post opposite them and fired. The muffled shots were heard only by the shooters and the unsuspecting guards fell to the ground. At that, a man from the back of one the squads moved forward with bolt cutters with thick rubber handles as well as think rubber gloves and cut two 3'x4' holes in the fence and the squads came through.

They radioed in to tell they were in, and moved to the shadows behind the guard posts. They could see the communications building from where they were and they also see the building that served as the armory and security center. They also saw several other buildings which served various purposes. They moved quickly and quietly towards the buildings. One squad toward the communications building and the other towards the armory. They reached the entrances at virtually the same time and prepared to enter the buildings. At each building a man set C4 plastic explosives on the doors, just enough to unhinged the door: a small amount near the handle and over the three hinges. They were wired together and rigged to the same detonator so they would go off at precisely the same time. The squads moved back out of the blast areas and prepared to blow the doors. The demo-men looked at each other held up three fingers, then two, then one and blew the doors. The squads immediately rushed in.

At the communications building there were several men at computers. They were immediately shot through the head and did not even know they were under attack. Another room was present which held the actual communication station. Three people sat in front of station.

"We're under attack!! We're under attack!! Send back, say again, we are under attack and are requesting—" The first man to enter the room had shot him before he could finish the sentence. The other the two were flexi-cuffed and held at gun point on the floor.

Meanwhile, at the armory, the team quickly moved in. Half the team secured the first floor where the actual armory was and the other half went up the stairs to where the security team was. Four the men threw in high explosive grenades took cover and waited for the three second fuse to burn. After the explosions ended they rushed up and found the security team dead or dieing. They went back downstairs and reported "Armory secure". Moments later "Comm station secured".

During all of this the four other squads began moving. One went to the command center, one to the labs, one to the computer room, and one to the warehouse, where it lay.


	2. No Rest for the Damned

Chapter Two

"What the..." Snake breathed as he found himself standing at the foot of a pathway. He looks around and sees no walls, no ceiling, nothing, just this pathway, twisting and turning through the nothing. As if out of nowhere a weak, near-dead voice all around him suddenly proclaimed:

"I've seen true evil. You Snake. You're just like the Boss...No, you're worse."

"Mantis?!" Snake looked around but saw nothing, only heard the remnants of an echo.

He felt an urge to start walking this path, as to why: he did not know. As he was about to place his foot on the path and take the first step he suddenly heard a booming voice:

"The path you walk on has no end. Each step you take is paved with the corpses of your enemies... Their souls will haunt you forever... you shall have no peace..."

"Raven...?!"

As Snake's foot lands on the path it suddenly begins shining brilliantly. Snake looks away and upon looking back he sees his foot resting on a pane of glass, under which a deceased Genome solider lies in full combat dress. His eyes are open, yet he is not breathing or moving. Snake looks down the path and sees the same sight all the way down. Countless bodies, lying as if in a coffin, shoulder to shoulder with other anonymous soldiers.

"What the...hell..." Snake utters as he exhales. He begins walking down the path. Suddenly he spins around to see the glass above the soldier he just passed to have vanished and the soldier sitting up, starring at him. The soldier's face was gaunt and lifeless, his eyes stare straight into Snake's and yet straight past him. The soldier's body does not rise out of the mass-coffin but simply turns and faces Snake.

"Snake...my life was taken by your hands...with your bare hands you killed me...my soul traveled here and for eternity it shall remain...and for that same eternity I shall make certain your soul suffers the same as mine!" The soldier proclaimed in a voice that matched his face: lifeless, unbreathing, speaking directly to Snake but sounding as if speaking to nobody at all.

At this Snake became petrified, he realized where he was, or at least what this was. These were the people he had killed. Those whom had died by his hands. The soldier started to try and get out of the coffin and Snake started walking backwards away from this. As he did the next soldier got up.

"Our blood shall forever be on your hands, our deaths always on your mind, and our souls sucking the life out of you day by day until the end of time!" The nameless soldier proclaimed in the same lifeless tone. Walking faster down the path Snake saw the soldiers he passed by doing the same as the first two.

"You can never escape your past, and you can never escape us!" Snake was now running down the path.

"Flight is futile! Your path of damnation goes on forever!" Running faster still.

"Your suffering shall never end! NEVER!" Sprinting faster than he ever knew he could.

Snake was then suddenly surprised, and even more frightened. He heard his own voice echoing all around him, encompassing him as if being mummified in it: "Killing is one of those things that gets easier the more you do it..."

"No! NO!! This can't be happening!!" Snake screamed as he ran down the path. The soldiers underneath him continued standing up as he passed them by. They did not give chase but simply stood up shrieking at him. Again his own voice as heard: "Besides, some people just need killing..."

"Oh God no!! No! Oh please, no" Snake implored, to whom he did not know. Maybe to himself, maybe to the dead all around him. Snake continued running down the path and still the dead rose from their graves and sent their damnation after him. He could see the different uniforms of all the different soldier he had killed. Those from Zanzibar, Outer Heaven, Shadow Moses and the Big Shell.

Upon looking down the path, Snake noticed a gap, and a temporary end to the soldiers underneath him, at the other end of the path more soldiers lay. It seemed as he could jump across it, but as he lunged and felt his feet leave the ground the gap widened and his hands barely caught hold of the ledge. He felt his fingers slipping, sweat started running down his hands, his fingers were getting slippery, he knew he couldn't hold on much longer. There was nothing underneath the path to grab onto with his legs, he vainly tried pulling himself up but only made his grip loosen even more. Finally he felt his grip go out completely and he felt himself fall through the never ending nothing of this space.

He fell for what seemed forever and then hit what felt like the ground with a heavy thud. He groped the ground, and then stood up. As he did so a brilliant light surrounded him. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw where he was. He was in a cemetery, a small four grave cemetery. There was a grave in front of him, to his left, right and behind him. He approached the grave in front of him and saw the name engraved on it: Grey Fox.

"Fox..." Snake said to the fallen friend he knew lay beneath him.

As he got closer to the grave a hand was thrust up out of the ground. It was followed by and arm, shoulder head and then body. Snake realized who it was. It was Grey Fox standing in front of him. But Snake realized it wasn't. He was in the same lifeless state as the soldiers above.

"Now in front of you. I can finally die. After Zanzibar, I was taken from the battle neither truly alive nor truly dead... an undying shadow in the world of lights. But soon... soon. It will finally... end."

"Fox...not again..." Snake desperately pleaded with the ghost of his friend who stood before him.

Suddenly Grey Fox's body crumpled and fell to the ground limp. Snake rushed forward and caught it and lay it gently on the ground.

"Fox...no!" Snake screamed at the lifeless body. His body ached with sorrow at seeing his best friend die again before his eyes, and again not fulfilling his friend's last wish. Snake got up and went to another grave. As he read the name he collapsed on the ground with grief: Meryl Silverburgh.

"No...MERYL!! NO!!" Snake sobbed as he approached the grave. He knelt down and touched the ground above her body. "Why...why...?" He heard his own voice again;

"I gave into my fear. I gave into my pain. I sold your life to save my own... I'm a loser. I'm not the hero you thought I was. I'm nothing! Meryl, I'm sorry! Forgive me..." When he heard this he clenched his fists and smashed them into the ground.

"DAMN!!" He screamed. He looked up and on the other side of the grave he saw Meryl's dead body. "MERYL!" He ran over to it and picked up her head shoulders. Her head fell limp and he dropped her body and backed away. "It's my fault...all my fault..."

"... you might still be able to save her. You could enjoy one brief moment of love..." Liquid's voice echoed all around him. He looked behind him and saw him standing over the third grave.

"YOU! YOU BASTARD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Snake screamed as his grief turned to pure hatred for the man standing in front of him. He lunged at Liquid who grabbed his arm threw him over the gravestone. Snake got up and again approached Liquid.

"So the Snake's finally come out of his hole? Are you ready now...my brother?"

"DAMN YOU!" Snake said as he threw a punch at Liquid. Liquid knocked Snake's fist to the side and lands a punch to his stomach. Snake recovers from this quickly, his rage cannot allow himself to feel pain. He lunges at Liquid and throws a kick towards Liquid's side. Liquid doesn't react fast enough and the kick knocks him to the ground. Snake approaches him and smashes his head to the ground with his elbow. Liquid gets up and approaches Snake. Liquid fakes a punch from the right and bring his left hand up towards Snake's jaw. Snake dodges this and brings his leg straight up into Liquid's elbow, the sound of bone breaking fills Snake's ears.

Now fighting with one arm, Liquid approaches Snake again. Snake goes to kick Liquid on his left side but at the last moment brings his right leg up, spins in the air and kicks the right side of Liquid's head, throwing him to the ground.

"You haven't lost your touch, I see..." Liquid says tauntingly to Snake. Snake then rushes forward, and almost collides with Liquid's fist. However, Snake manages to grab Liquid's forearm, flip him over his shoulder and send him flying into the stone above Liquid's grave, the sound of cracking of the bone in Liquid's other arm and cracking stone is heard. As Liquid rises and recovers from the throw, Snake walks towards him slowly. Liquid throws a kick at Snake. Snake catches Liquid's leg under his shoulder, turns slightly, locking it in place and then smashes his elbow into Liquid's knee, dislocating it and sending Liquid to the ground above his grave.

"This isn't over...As long as you live, I live as well... I'm you. I'm your shadow, Snake! You can never escape your shadow!!" As Liquid says this the ground begins to swallow him up and suck him down into the grave. Snake pants as he recovers from the unexpected battle. He then notices the fourth grave. He goes over to it, afraid to see who's name the stone bears. He sees it and can't fathom it: Solid Snake.

"No, not yet! There's too much I have to do." Despite his saying this the ground begins swallowing him the same way it did Liquid. His feet go cold as they enter the ground, then his shins and his knees. He tries to move his legs, but he can't feel them. It's as if they're simply not there. When he's neck deep in the ground he hears a familiar voice.

"Snake? Snake?! SNAAAAAKE!!!" It was distant, and drowned out, but he recognized it as Otacon's voice. "SNAKE! WAKE UP!!"

Snake jumped back to consciousness and found himself in his apartment. He had fallen asleep on the couch, the cigarette butts still smoking in the ashtray.

"LIQUID!! HE'S ALIVE!!" Snake screamed.

"What...? Otacon asked very much nervously.

"Huh?...No...Nothing...Never mind."

"Okay...I got a call from somebody, they need our help."

"Who is it this time?"

"An old friend of yours," Otacon said some what mysteriously, automatically getting Snake's attention.

"...friend...?" Snake asked immediately recalling his dream.

"Umm...yeah...Roy Campbell." Otacon said, wary of Snake's current disposition. "Something the matter?"

"Yeah, weirdest dream I've had in a long time." Snake said suddenly avoiding the subject. "Well...What does Roy need?"

"He needs you...right away." Otacon went along with the subject change.

"For...what...?" Snake inquired yet again.

"Come on, we've got to get to the Fort." Otacon said, referring to Fort Bragg. "Campbell's waiting there. He'll fill you in."

"Blackhawk...?" Snake asked as he heard the rotor-blades of the helicopter coming closer to them.

"Yeah, up to the roof." Otacon motioned.

"Well...lets go then." Snake said as he went to the door, he grabbed a card key on the way out and once outside the door he swiped the card through a panel and a red light turned on signifying the door was locked. They got to the roof and several soldiers got out of the helicopter to meet them, they then climbed in. They felt the blades begin spinning faster and the resulting lift as they gained altitude and set off in the direction of the Fort. "I have a bad feeling that path is gonna get a bit longer..."

"What?" Otacon asked apprehensively.

"Nothing...don't worry about it."


	3. Surprise Visitor

Chapter Three

Patrols had been set, and he was tasked to patrol the warehouse. His name was Lieutenant George Harrison. As of now his rank of Lieutenant was ineffectual, but he liked to keep it anyway. He had resigned from the Russian military at that rank several years ago. He had been a Spetsnaz operative and began to develop a dislike and eventual hatred of the Russian government due to the missions he was assigned to. In short he was given all of the government's dirty work, and he found out how the government really handled its business and resented it. So, he resigned and was looking for a place in which he could use the training he had received (which was amongst the best in the world) when it found him.

One day a man came to his apartment and asked if he would like to work for him. The man said his talents would be used as would his hatred. The man disclosed no more information except that and the fact that there would be a handsome monetary reward for accepting. Which he did. Ever since then he had been trained by this group and was prepared – he guessed – for this day. He already had expert training in all the fields he had been trained in by the group: basic soldiering, marksmanship, combat survival, wilderness survival, demolitions, CQB (Close-Quarters-Battle), calling in artillery, naval and air strikes, hostage rescue, HALO and HAHO jumps, and SCUBA diving (in water temperatures ranging from artic to tropical conditions). He was also highly trained with almost every gun he would encounter in the field. Everything form the M14 to the M4, the AK-47 to the AN-94, the MP-5 to the M249. As well as almost every pistol, ranging from the Beretta M9 to the Magnum Research Desert Eagle. However, he favored revolvers to semi-automatic handguns. Namely: the Colt Single Action Army. He was considered by many of his new allies as one of the most highly trained soldiers in the world, and he was, and he knew it. He knew anybody he came across in the field would be at an extreme disadvantage when squaring off against him.

Despite all of his training he had to be retrained in certain aspects. Everything he had been trained for was training for offensive operations. What he was trained for now was defense. Guarding an area from attack rather than attacking. He quickly adapted to the new scenarios and simply thought himself even more expertly trained than before – something he eagerly accepted.

The level of the warehouse he was tasked with guarding was the upper area. It was a two story building with numerous basement levels. He was in the second story. It served as a storage facility for the base. In it everything from food to guns were stored. In addition, ammunition, clothes, and other gear was held – gear such as boots, helmets, vests, body armor and other assorted things. Despite the remote location of the base, it was as completely stocked with military wares as any other military base in the world.

At first he wasn't too sure as to what exactly he was guarding against and then he remembered that the Navy might have gotten word that the base was over run and may attempt to take it back. As a former SEAL, he was fully aware of the potential of the United States' Special Forces. He knew that if there was a retaliatory strike it would be hard, decisive and unmerciful. Although he thought his post trivial he knew that every part of a Special Forces team was as important as any other and that he needed to take every order he received seriously or dire consequences could arise from it. He knew what his employer sought, and based on his wages he knew it was of great import, this only fueled his curiosity and his fear. For if it was so important to the thief, it must be more important to the current owner. And due to the fact that the owner – or rather creator and former owner – was the United States government he knew that they would try to take it back as quickly and covertly as possible.

He pushed the PTT (Push To Talk) button on his radio:

"Warehouse, second floor, reporting." He said into the microphone incorporated into his earpiece in a gruff voice with a combination of Russian and English accents.

"Proceed." Came the voice from the other end.

"All clear. Copy?"

"Roger, carry on."

He continued around the large room that was divided into several rooms with two corridors running vertically and horizontally across it. These corridors divided the floor into 4 rooms. Each containing different supplies. One containing ammunition, another guns, another clothing and gear, and one food. Everything was in lockers, boxes, or cold storage. Guns in lockers, ammunition in magazines inside boxes, clothing in boxes, and food in cold storage. He shared the guard duty of the area with another soldier. Each had two rooms and a corridor to look after. He knew that even if the Navy had gotten word of their incursion it would take a while for them to get there. So, he approached his fellow guard – who he did not know too well – and tried to make conversation.

"Smoke?" Harrison offered as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"Why not? Nothing's going on around here anyway." The guard answered as he took a cigarette which Harrison lit for him.

"So, what's you name?" Harrison asked trying to make small talk.

"Johnny," He answered. "Johnny Newfield."

"George Harrison." Was his response, extending a hand jokingly. "Nice to umm, meet you."

"Same here. So, where are you from?"

"Originally, Russia, but I've moved around a bit." Harrison answered as he looked at his watch and thought to himself '30 seconds.' And then to Newfield: "I sincerely hope you enjoyed that cigarette, because it's going to be the last you'll ever have."

"What...?" Asked Newfield curiously and somewhat scared.

"Well, you see," Started Harrison, thinking '15 seconds.' Then with a smile "It was laced with concentrated cyanide, and as your breathing, your dying. You have about 3 seconds of life."

"What...why?!?" Newfield vainly tried raising his guns but dropped to his knees before he could. He was choking, ad vainly trying to elicit help, but for his case, there was no cure.

"And, just so you know, my name isn't Lieutenant George Harrison." He began, removing his back-pack and taking out a long brown trench coat, which he put on over his brown, orange and black Russian woodland BDU. "My name, is Shalashaska...Revolver Ocelot."

With this Newfield falls to the ground, dead. Ocelot takes off his combat vest, MP5, thigh holster and boonie hat and put them in a locker. He also took off the wig that was on his head, revealing long, silvery-white hair. He then took out of his backpack a waist holster and a holster that went over one shoulder, and then clipped onto the other holster at his waist. These were lined with .45 Long Colt rounds. Lastly, out of the backpack two Colt Single Action Armies, blued steel, 5 inch barrels and ivory grips emerged. These he started spinning. Starting out forwards, then one forwards one backwards, then spinning them while making large circles with them. Then he throws one behind, up and over his shoulder, catches it, spins it extremely fast and throws it into the holster at his waist. As he did this he threw the other one up in the air, from his left hand, and catches it in his right hand and spins it very slowly almost looking as if in slow-motion then picking up speed begins changing the angle of his hand to accentuate the figure-eight he was making in the air. Then at the peak of the eight, he changes direction and brings the gun gently down into the holster at his back, over his kidney.

He then took of the radio that was on his shoulder and discarded it, as he already had nanomachines and a codec working inside of him. Using his codec, as he headed out of the building, he said:

"Everything is set." Then responding to an unheard voice. "Yes, I've infiltrated the base. Of course, they have no idea who I am, despite my renown. Yes, of "


End file.
